


Bellicose

by Pavuvu



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Gen, Mythology - Freeform, War, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pavuvu/pseuds/Pavuvu
Summary: Mythology meets man. A drabble.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 14





	Bellicose

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this a few months back and forgot about it until now. Feel free to pursue the idea if it sparks your interest :)

He had grown tired of war long before humans had built weapons of steel. Had grown tired of war when swords turned to iron, an later when mortals stopped invoking his name in favor of another. But war is in his blood, was bequeathed to him by his father alongside a name, an aspect he cannot shove off despite desire or changing times.

Again and again he is shoved into uniform and handed a weapon, is called to assist, to bolster, to boost. His name whispered on lips of men who learned of him from dry textbooks not from from the priests and temples that once honored his names. 

Times have changed but war has not and a bellicose God cannot turn away when men call for bloodshed. 

They called him Ares, and Tyr, and Teutates and countless others. They called him to fight, to ensure victory, to eradicate the other. It is a pendulum swinging endlessly from the dawn of time and the first man who made war to the end of time and the men who fight it still. 

It is an endless cycle and even gods grow tired.

It's Haig who called him first, in that war to end all wars. Invoking his name at the battle on Mons when it looked like the British attack was to fail. And fail it did, even with his help, a lost battle cannot be won on the belief of a single man. But each man under the order to retreat fell unto his protection and each man to fall back safely did it with the gods name falling from their lips and stamped into the meat of their souls. 

Hail Brittanna their mouths may say, but their heart beats with his every name. Mars. Horus. Belatucadros.

Their hearts beat him into being. A soldier, they pray, one of us, give us victory, we pray to thee, oh Ares we call thee, a soldier, a victor, save us, help us, carry us home. 

Again and again until he is pressed into the heart of a man huddled deep within the trenches. He is terrified and trembling and each bombshell sets him whimpering but by the gods own hand he will do. The man fits just like every other soldier the God has worn. Too tight at first then all at once, like a well worn jacket. 

'We have work to do' the god whispers and the man who was once just William Schofield looks out onto the battlefield and agrees.


End file.
